


Navigating Futures

by Daegaer



Series: Problems in Navigation [6]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Assassins & Hitmen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Psychic Abilities, Slavery, Space Opera, Spaceships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 23:32:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4157103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on station leave Ran finally notices things about his crewmates - at an inopportune time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Navigating Futures

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2015 Weiss vs Saiyuki Battle Challenge 3: Courage theme. Space Opera!

The flurry of activity once they'd made dock was familiar and comforting. No one got off the ship until the usual preparations were made, which meant a lot of last minute checking that favourite foodstuffs had indeed been added to the order. Crawford waited in mock impatience as the crew went over everything again, skimming the staples and cheerfully insulting each other about their choices in teas and snacks. The familiar nonsense made the tiredness from his broken sleep the night before bearable.  
  
"Ran?" he said. "You didn't request anything."  
  
Ran shrugged, giving the impression he was trying to be invisible. He kept his eyes down, carefully away from all their faces.  
  
"Get something sweet, he'd like that, wouldn't you?" Schuldig said cheerfully.  
  
Ran flinched, then held himself still.  
  
"Thank you, First Officer," he said in a colourless voice.  
  
Crawford raised an eyebrow; Schuldig shrugged. _Not my problem_ , Crawford thought, and Schuldig looked like he was trying not to laugh too much at his captain. Crawford submitted the order and sat back.  
  
"Food and water, ordered. Don't come crying to me in deep space when you find you're out of something vital. Everyone happy? Then we can prepare for leave."  
  
"I'm owed so much damn leave," Farfarello said. "No one expect to see me sober all week."  
  
"There's plenty of time for everyone," Crawford said, stretching. It felt good to relax, to be a _friend_ rather than just an _officer_. "You've all seen the rota for shipboard duty while we're here, there's generous leave for us all."  
  
"And I'm definitely one of the first," Schuldig said, grabbing the last of the cheese-flavoured crackers. "I feel it's my right as a senior officer and long-time associate and friend of our beloved captain that I corruptly take this opportunity for myself and the nav."  
  
They all watched Ran try not to react, then the usual teasing about what Schuldig did to keep his position as First Officer started up. He encouraged it, as usual, until the crew drifted off to get ready.  
  
"Captain?"  
  
Crawford looked over at Ran, who had his arms folded tight, as if protecting himself, still looking at the floor.  
  
"Yes, Ran?"  
  
"Can I stay on the ship?"  
  
"It'll do you good to see the station. Schuldig will make sure you're all right. You can't stay behind by yourself, or hang around getting underfoot when there's only one other crewmember aboard."  
  
Ran said nothing, then,  
  
"Then could I go onto the station by myself?"  
  
Crawford laughed. "Absolutely not! I'm not having you stolen. Stick close to Schuldig."  
  
"I don't want to," Ran said. "Can I go onto the station with you? Or Nagi? Or Jens? Or Far-"  
  
"The First Officer," Crawford said, "is in charge of navigation matters. Do you have some problem with how he has discharged his duty towards you?"  
  
_Now_ Ran met his eyes. Tormenting underlings really wasn't dignified, Crawford thought, as Ran took a shaky breath. He was, however, about to go on leave and might perhaps grant himself a little latitude.  
  
"His _duty?_ No, Captain. I have no problems with how he performs his _duty_. I have a problem with him not taking no for an answer."  
  
Crawford tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, then gave Ran a cool smile. "I know for a fact he does," he said. "Report to the First Officer's quarters for further instructions."  
  
"Captain, please –"  
  
"You have your orders, Navigator."  
  
Ran looked at him a moment longer, then nodded and left. _That was unnecessary_ , Crawford thought. _I shouldn't take bad memories out on him_. He stretched and headed for his own quarters. Too late to bother about it now.  
  
An hour later he was ready to release his increasingly anxious crew onto the dock. Jens and he would stay aboard the first day, supervising the off-loading of cargo destined for the station and going over all the medical documentation needed; no ship wanted to give the suggestion of plague on board. The others hung around, overnight bags in hand, giddy with the thought of their upcoming freedom. Ran was, Crawford noted with amusement, staring in a mix of astonishment and horror at Nagi, who once scrubbed and depilated and dressed in something other than baggy overalls seemed to have shed several years.  
  
"Engineer?" Ran said in dubious tones, as if not quite sure who he was talking to, "Will you be all right?"  
  
"Why wouldn't I be?" Nagi said, off-hand.  
  
"You're a bit young to wander round the docks by yourself, aren't you?" Ran said, scowling as sniggers broke out around him.  
  
"How young do I look?" Nagi said, looking modestly down at his perfectly-buffed nails.  
  
"Scandalously," Schuldig said with a grin.  
  
"Oh, good," Nagi said, satisfied. "I'll be fine," he said to Ran. "Don't worry about me."  
  
"Worry for the poor fools who go home with him," Farfarello said, to general laughter.  
  
  


* * *

  


It was a relief to be free from all responsibilities, even if only for a short time. Crawford sat in the bar, drinking an overpriced whisky and soda, idly rating the other patrons’ looks. They all looked polished, self-satisfied and like they’d be very boring in bed. Maybe that’s how he seemed as well, he thought, though he was fairly sure he at least stood out amidst the lawyers and accountants. Station personnel always had an overly-fed, placid appearance, even when they imagined themselves sleek, dangerous predators circling their prey. He watched one such hunt start, amusing himself as the events played out in his mind a minute before they did in reality. The man’s suit was fashionable, he supposed. Expensive, too. What a pity about his cologne. Not to mention the fact that his prey didn’t like men. He wished he were close enough to hear whatever it was the young woman said; it was enough to send her would-be suitor into retreat, all pretence of being a predator fled.

“What are you looking at?” the man said, glaring at Crawford as he passed.

Crawford gave him a steady stare, letting the amusement drain from his face to be replaced with the cold, implacable expression he’d worn as his public face for so long. The man looked down and hurried past. Crawford shrugged and sipped his drink; sometimes they were stupid enough to say something further at that point, but he supposed he’d live without breaking anyone’s bones that night. He should just find someone accommodating and go back to their room. He just - he frowned - didn’t feel like it. It wasn’t just the boring patrons in the bar; he had a distinct feeling he’d rather go back to his hotel room and rest. He couldn’t be sick, he thought, he was up-to-date on all his shots. He considered ordering another whisky, but decided he could find something better tasting for half the price on the way back to his room. _Just annoyed with all these civilians_ , he decided, and stood, tossing back the final gulp of his drink. The young man who’d come up to his table smiled at him hopefully, the smile dying as Crawford looked him up and down and snorted with contemptuous laughter. He strode out, still feeling on edge, and felt his warning senses come to a sudden pitch. He spun around, hand already going for the weapon he no longer carried, to see Farfarello grinning at him.

“You’re jumpy. Come and have a drink!”

Crawford let himself relax. “Sorry. I’ve spent an hour or two surrounded by lawyers. It’s enough to put anyone off their stride.”

Farfarello clapped him heavily on the shoulder. “The only thing you have to do in triplicate now is cheap and nasty shots. It’ll do you good, come on.”

It was one way of taking the edge off, Crawford decided. “Yeah,” he said. “The more the better.”

 

* * *

 

On the third morning Crawford met Schuldig at the ship and spent the day going over cargo bids and clearing what deliveries had already been made of their food orders.

“Water’s finished,” Schuldig said, checking his console.

“Mmm? Right.”

“Except the order for the number two tank, I had them replace it with pure alcohol. With some lemon concentrate. We just need to add ice.”

“Good, good. . . . What?” He looked up to meet Schuldig’s amused gaze. “I am actually listening to you.”

“Right. Your mind’s been elsewhere for hours, Crawford, what’s up? And don’t bother telling me to call you _Captain_ , no one else is on the ship.”

“The nav is,” Crawford said. “Somewhere.”

Schuldig shrugged. “You all right? You’ve been acting odd since before we docked.”

“I’m fine.” He sighed at the sceptical expression. “I’m just tired, I’ve been finding it difficult to sleep.”

“Really?” Schuldig leant forwards. “Find anyone nice? How nice? Or is it just boring insomnia?”

“Remind me why you’re first officer?” Crawford said.

“My incredible intellect, caring nature and deep interest in the universe and who, at any one point in time, is fucking who,” Schuldig said. “Why insomnia?”

He wasn’t going to let it go, Crawford thought. Schuldig shook his head. He sat back, rubbing the base of his neck. “The nav ever say ‘No’ to you?” he asked.

“What’s that got to do with anything? No. He hasn’t said no. He’s found himself surprisingly eager, in fact. Guess I’ve got something you haven’t.”

Crawford thought about Ran’s shadowed expression and the way he still wasn’t making eye contact. “Right. Don’t do that to civilian personnel, station law doesn’t like it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Schuldig said. “I’ll be good.”

“When he - requested - that he say no to me,” Crawford said, “I found myself thinking about recruitment. That’s all.”

Schuldig let out a breath and shook his head. “Ah. So you’re telling me you’re such a hard bastard that being turned down by the pretty little nav has set off nightmares?”

“No, you fucker,” Crawford said, and laughed. “Gods dammit, we should have made you the medical officer instead of Jens, that’s some insight into the human condition you have.”

“Hey,” Schuldig said easily, “I don’t like to boast. We done here? Come on, I know what you need - a nice cup of something soothing so you can sleep tonight.” He stood and stretched.

“You are not making me drink that fruit shit,” Crawford said.

“Not even for your best friend?”

“Not even for my mother.”

Schuldig laughed and pressed the comm. “Ran, go to the galley, we’re going to have something to eat.”  
  
When they got to the galley Ran was there, standing in a corner as if hoping that he was going to be ignored. Schuldig put bread and jars of spreads on the table and pulled Ran forwards.

“Make yourself useful - sandwiches all round. And as everyone’s a barbarian and doesn’t appreciate my tea -” He started making something Crawford hoped was marginally drinkable.

Ran had at least learnt to control himself, Crawford thought. He didn’t like Schuldig sitting close to him, that was clear, or the way he absently stroked his arm now and then, but he stayed quiet and was polite when spoken to, and ate the sweet biscuits he was given as a treat. He was, Crawford realised, far more _navigator-like_ , and he wondered suddenly if Sani had been so quiet and odd simply because she had had so much of Schuldig’s attention as well. Schuldig gave him an annoyed look and sat rather straighter before standing abruptly.

“Nature calls,” he said.

Crawford ate another of the biscuits and looked at Ran, who had gone back to staring at the tabletop. “Do you like the station?” he asked.

“It’s different than the ship,” Ran said.

“Yes. You seem unhappy. I’m sure Schuldig would be amenable to spending some time taking you to something you wanted to see.”

Ran looked up. “Captain,” he said, “I saw the crew rota, Nagi will be on-board tomorrow, couldn’t I stay with him?”

“Why? Why are you always down in Engineering?”

“I like it,” Ran said. “He doesn’t treat me like - I used to think about going to college and studying that sort of thing.” He leant forwards, his face no longer expressionless. “Captain, please, don’t make me stay with the First Officer.”

“Has he hurt you?” Crawford said.

Ran sat back, his expression appalled. “No,” he said, his voice a mere breath. “He hasn’t _hurt_ me. But I think he’s drugging me, Captain. I mean, I can’t explain - I don’t want to talk about -” He ran down into silence again. “Afterwards,” he said then, the words sounding like they were being dragged from him, “I don’t recognise my own actions. The First Officer says I’m making that up.” Crawford made a noncommittal noise. “Take me away from him, Captain,” Ran said. “If it’s you or him, you can’t be any worse.”

“Ran,” Crawford said, “Thank you for your rousing vote in my powers of attraction, but I did say you had made a choice. Even someone in your situation has the ability to choose, and every choice leads to different futures - it’s hard to jump from one future to another, believe me, I know that better than most men.” He got up and came around to pat Ran’s shoulder. “I’ll ask him to be nice to you,” he said. “You just have to get used to him.”

Schuldig was leaning against the wall outside. He raised his eyebrows.

“What have you been doing to him?” Crawford said quietly.

“Nothing unusual. I’ve been very patient, maybe too patient.” He indicated they should move out of earshot before adding, “I’ll calm him down, he’ll be fine. I’ll even give him the night to himself, all right?”

“All right,” Crawford said.

Schuldig went back towards the galley and Crawford decided he’d let him handle things. Ran would be happier after a good night’s sleep in his own quarters. For himself, he decided he would listen to music and turn in early.

 

* * *

 

Crawford woke fully from a troubled doze to stare in worried confusion about him.

“Lights on,” he said, sitting up. _Danger_. What? He stood, trying to sort out the feeling. It was almost as if he should be making the countdown for - He was out the door and running for the bridge before the thought had fully registered. He skidded onto the bridge, his bare feet beginning to ache with the cold from the deck plates and grabbed Ran, shaking him.

“What the hells are you doing?”

Ran gaped at him, all too clearly try to come up with some reason why he might be on the bridge, alone, with the navigator’s station cables unfurled. Crawford took in the scene; the hypospray of navigation drugs lying ready, the fact that half the array of lights on Schuldig’s console were active.

“How,” he said in fury, pointing at the console, “did you do that?”

Ran all too visibly seemed to decide between his earlier meek-little-navigator act and the more prickly personality he’d displayed at first.

“I memorised the sequence of keystrokes in his password,” he said.

It came out in the exact intonation Nagi used when he was pissed off with the utter stupidity of bridge officers, and Crawford had trouble holding himself still. _Civilian_ , he told himself. _Damn fool civilian you paid good money for_.

“I see you had difficulty in memorising his retinal pattern,” he said, in heavy sarcasm. “What were you _thinking?_ You wanted to engage the engines and nav system in _dock?_ You wouldn’t just take us with you, you fool, you’d rip the gods damned station apart. That’s an impressive tally to drag to hell with you.”

Ran looked away. “I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” he muttered. “I just - I had an idea. Schuldig drugged me again, I’m sure -”

“The _First Officer_ ,” Crawford said icily.

Ran looked at him carefully. “I don’t _remember_ him giving me anything, but I suddenly felt - weird, earlier. Too calm, like I’d been turned down, so he gave me _something_ , and he told me I should relax and not worry so much. And I stayed calm, even when he sent me off to my quarters, but I felt too odd to sleep. So I wondered what would happen when Sch - when the First Officer got tired of me, and I thought, _Someone else in the crew, then someone else, and eventually my mind will go and I won’t have to care what’s happening to the rest of me_.”

“Ran,” Crawford said, feeling somewhat less angry, “you do worry too much. And so you decided to _not_ commit suicide and hope to take the entire crew and a few hundred station dwellers along?” He looked meaningfully around them.

“I remembered you saying it’s hard to jump from one future to another - it’s my _job_ to make the jumps,” Ran said. “I just hoped, maybe if I could run a simulation I could see a way to a future that would be better.” He sighed. “It made more sense, earlier. It was probably whatever the First Officer gave me.”

Crawford overrode the controls on the console and locked everything to him personally. Clearly they’d been letting security lapse far too much. He took Ran by the upper arm and towed him away.

“You’re going back to bed,” he said. “And _I’m_ going to give you something to help you sleep.” He took a sedative patch from a first aid kit in the corridor and showed it to him. “See? Medium dosage, non-habit forming - don’t argue.” Ran didn’t, holding out his arm quietly. “Now, you’re going to sleep, and we’ll sort all of this out when you wake up,” Crawford said.

“Yes, Captain,” Ran said, his eyelids already drooping. Crawford got him to his quarters and steered him to his bunk, letting him collapse down. Then he went out and locked the door to his and Schuldig’s codes; Ran was _not_ , he thought, getting out again without his knowledge.

“Fuck,” he muttered. He’d helped cause this. If he hadn’t lost his temper in the first place, if he hadn’t _ordered_ Schuldig after Ran - He took a breath. Past was past; look to the future. Maybe this was why he’d been so on edge and now this future had untangled itself. First things first. They needed their nav back on a working, even keel, and they needed a damn security overhaul. He walked along to Schuldig’s quarters and knocked. Schuldig eventually came to the door, yawning and wild-haired.

“We have to talk,” Crawford said.

Schuldig looked at him in sleepy resignation, and gestured for him to enter.

 

* * *

 

“Nav,” Nagi said, dropping his bag in the galley.

“Engineer,” Ran said, looking almost perky.

“Must be true love,” Schuldig said, not half as nastily as Crawford felt he might.

“Just ignore them,” Nagi said, as Ran drew in on himself a little. “You’re not looking as shit as you did last time I saw you.”

“No,” Ran said.

Nagi’s gaze slid over to Schuldig and Crawford, and back to Ran. “Good.”

Schuldig blew out his cheeks and looked at Crawford in irritation. “This never-ending chatter is driving me mad. I’m going back on leave.”

“I’ll see you for dinner,” Crawford said.

“It’d better be a good one,” Schuldig said. He assumed a position like one of the gods blessing the most insignificant of mortals. “I leave you now -” He grabbed at the table as he suddenly began to topple. “Funny, funny,” he said. “ _Someone_ isn’t getting any dessert sent back.”

Crawford watched Ran’s slight frown clear from his face as he obviously decided Schuldig was just joking around. It was good to see the ease in Ran’s face coming back a bit, he thought, as he watched Nagi try to bring him a little more out of his shell. Once Schuldig had left, Ran even seemed on the verge of smiling once or twice.

“I’m going to get back into work clothes,” Nagi said. “Then I’ll be down in Engineering. Come down in a while if you want.”

“Thanks,” Ran said. He looked over at Crawford after Nagi had gone. “If you don’t mind, Captain?”

“No. But not for long, I need to go out and I want you to come along. Jens is going to take you to a medical check-up.”

Ran nodded. “Could I come back to the ship then? Maybe stay with Nagi?”

Crawford looked at him, shaking his head. “Nagi will want to do things without interruption, and he just likes to be left by himself sometimes. It’s not that he’s trying to avoid you in particular, I can see you like him.”

Ran took a surprised breath. “Not like that, Captain.” He sat opposite Crawford, looking him straight in the eyes. “Captain, do you want me to stay in your room tonight?”

Their navigator did not believe in favours that came for free, Crawford thought. “You’ve already said no,” he said. “Don’t worry.”

Ran did half-smile at that. “Thank you,” he said, and went, presumably, off to Engineering.

Crawford sat at the table alone, eating overly sweet station snack food and thinking about the difficulties in dealing with friends and crew.

 

* * *

 

Ran looked around the room and then carefully put the small bag containing his new underwear and socks into the bedside locker. He didn’t seem to mind the room’s only door leading to Crawford’s room, or the fact that it had been made clear that it wouldn’t open without Crawford’s say-so. It was better than his ship-board quarters, Crawford supposed, with its own entertainment screen and clean, brightly painted furniture. Ran put a hand on the back on the plain, upright chair a little possessively, as if its mere existence somehow restored dignity he felt had been taken from him.

“I’m glad you approve,” Crawford said, trying not to sound amused. Ran had behaved well all day; Jens said he’d been very self-controlled at his medical, and hadn’t needed to be sedated at all. That was a relief, and was a good antidote to the stories everyone heard about the way navigators could react once they realised a stranger had their hands intimately on them.He absently patted Ran’s head and sighed as the young man moved away.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “Our last navigator liked that, that’s all.”

“Being petted? Like an animal?” Ran said acerbically.

“She never objected,” Crawford said, determinedly cheerful. “Ran, obviously on the ship the crew is very casual, and that is perfectly all right, but you need to mind your tone in public, understand?”

“Yes, Captain,” Ran said, so politely it sounded almost insulting.

Crawford gave him an even look. “I mean it. And no bad mouthing Schuldig, and you _will_ be polite to him too. Understand?”

Ran looked like he wanted to argue. “Yes, Captain. Am I allowed to have my own opinions on the matter?”

“As long as you don’t voice them. I don’t care what you think of anyone as long as you’re polite to their face and about them, and do as you’re told. _Schuldig_ might get pissed off by what you think, but he’s professional. Do your duty, and that’ll satisfy him. He’s still your superior officer.”

“I won’t let him know what I’m thinking,” Ran said.

Crawford grinned. “Good boy. The gods love a trier. Let’s get going; the others will be waiting.”

The restaurant was nice enough, although nowhere near as fancy as Schuldig’s tastes could have demanded. Crawford had long since decided that their life as free merchants had clearly driven his first officer insane in some way that involved heavy, polished tableware and almost armour-weight table-linens, not to mention food cooked in a way that mysteriously took from its flavour while adding orders of magnitude to its price. He wasn’t paying for that sort of meal more than once a year, so Schuldig would just have to endure the still over-priced establishment they were dining in. He sat at the table, waving Ran to the seat beside him, and picked up the menu.

“Evening,” Jens said, slipping into the seat opposite. “You got settled into your hotel without difficulty, then?”

“None at all,” Crawford said idly, still reading. He looked up just before Jens’ communicator beeped.

“Farfarello sends his regrets,” Jens said. “It seems he’s found someone he doesn’t want to let out of his sight.”

Crawford laughed. “Good for him.”

“Good for him what?” Schuldig said, dropping into the seat opposite Ran. Jens held up his communicator for him to see and he grinned. “Well done, our fine gunner.” He picked up his menu and read, humming tunelessly. “Gods, you’re such a cheapskate, Captain,” he said.

“So says the man who isn’t paying,” Jens said. “I’ll just say in advance, thank you, Captain.”

“Always glad to be appreciated,” Crawford said. “Ran, order whatever you want.”

They were eating when a man came up and bowed slightly. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said. “Lord Captain, you _are_ the captain of the free merchant ship _Rose_?”

“Yes?” Crawford said.

“I’m so sorry to disturb you - I think an order may have been made by your account, lodged by Engineer Naoe? I represent the local office of the financial - ”

“We’re having _dinner_ , can’t we discuss this at another time?” Schuldig said.

“There are nothing wrong with our finances,” Crawford said, as the on-edge feelings of the last days sharpened all at once to a point. _This man was going to kill them all_. He stabbed upwards with his fork, aiming for the man’s eyes. Schuldig had already come out of his seat, a blur of motion, but the man was no longer where he had been, ducking out of the way of Crawford’s blow and dropping down to sweep Schuldig’s legs from under him. For the first precious seconds no one else in the restaurant seemed to notice, then Schuldig leapt straight up to avoid being felled and people began to turn. Ran scrambled away from the table, his chair overturning.

“They’re here,” the man snapped, pressing a wrist comm, and pulled out a handgun. “You first, I think,” he said, aiming at Schuldig as the other diners started to panic and rush for the exit. He stiffened suddenly, shaking, and dropped. Jens stood behind him, his hands outstretched.

“That’s not something I ever wanted to do again,” he said.

“I think it’s time to go,” Schuldig said, bending to grab the gun. He pushed up the man’s sleeve and nodded down at the tattoo. “Black unit. Let’s get out of here. Ran? Ran! Stop staring at us like that and come _on_.”

“What have you _done?_ ” Ran said in horror. “Jens, you _killed_ him! Schuldig - you - how did you do that - what _are_ you?”

Crawford went over and seized his arm. “Come on. Explanations later. We’re going.” He dragged Ran after him across the restaurant and to the door. _Left?_ , he thought, _Right?_ He closed his eyes to shut out distractions. _They would be ambushed in less than four minutes if they took the shorter route to the left. They’d have an extra ninety seconds grace if they went to the right_. He started off at a fast walk, hoping to avoid looking too suspicious, although he was sure that station security was already tracking them. Schuldig drew ahead, taking point.

Schuldig paused them at a corridor junction, then waved them on. _We need a diversion. A general panic to blend into._

“Yeah, but we don’t have time to get one going,” he said.

“Captain?” Ran said in confusion.

“Never mind. Jens, get that camera.”

Jens looked at the camera, his eyes narrowing as he traced its power route. He ran his hands along the wall and placed them flat, bracing himself. He grimaced and the lights in the corridor dimmed for a moment. Crawford looked up at the camera and nodded in satisfaction to see its blinking light had extinguished.

“Good, now get Farfarello back to the ship. We’re about to have a station security detail come at us. We have a minute out of anyone’s sight right now.”

Jens turned and grabbed a shop door, twisting the handle. There was a spark and the door made a sighing noise as it opened.

“Sorry,” he said. “Too much power from the wall. The security’s fried; it shouldn’t have sent an alarm.”

 _They could fight, they would sustain minor injuries. They could hide . . . successfully._ Crawford shoved Ran through the door, the other two following. They crouched behind racks of clothing and watched as five figures in riot armour and carrying stun sticks jogged past.

“I can’t find Farfarello, he’s too far away,” Schuldig whispered, “We’re going to have to use communicators.”

“Gods dammit - do it.”

“Why did you attack that man?” Ran said. “Tell me why!”

“I don’t owe you any explanation,” Crawford said. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I understand that you’re pirates. I should have seen that from the start.”

Schuldig looked up from whispering into his communicator. “He’s on his way back to the ship. Ran, stop trying to distract the captain, let him calculate futures. Damn, guys, that asshole was arrogant trying to take us by himself.”

“Nothing we wouldn’t have done ourselves in the past,” Jens muttered. “Captain?”

“Straight down one level, come out in the main shopping area and it’s a clear run to the dock,” Crawford said. “It’s too fucking easy. I can’t see where they are - someone’s blocking me.”

“Maybe the gods just love us,” Schuldig said. “Let’s go.” He spun round and glared at Ran. “Don’t you start. I am _not_ in the fucking mood for it right now.”

Ran blinked in utter surprise, then glared back. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Enough,” Crawford said. “We’re moving.”

They set off, fast as they could without looking like they were on the run. Ran kept looking between them, his expression hard. Crawford really didn’t care; all he wanted was to be back on the ship. As they came down an escalator, surrounded by shoppers, all chatting into their communicators he risked a call to Nagi.

“Nagi - you remember a time we overstayed at a party five or six years ago and ended up leaving quickly before our ride abandoned us? Same thing. Start everything up.”

There was a pause, then, _Yes, Captain._

“Docks ahead,” Schuldig said as Crawford yelled,

“Run!”

They all went to as fast a speed as possible, shoving people out of their way. The concussion grenade exploded behind them, making them stagger and gasp, though they were not caught in its blast’s centre. Schuldig, with his greater speed, had managed to get out of the immediate danger area and turned, pulling out the gun he had taken from their first assailant. He shot past them, a blinding flash of light. An answering shot came back, hitting a disoriented shopper who staggered blindly into its path.

_Come on, straight ahead, come on!_

Crawford ran, as best he could towards the feeling of Schuldig’s position. Another shot went past him.

_Got the gods-damned bitch! Winged her, anyway._

Schuldig grabbed his arm and pulled him along. _Crawford? Are you all right?_

“Yeah,” Crawford said, his voice sounding wrong to him. “Jens?”

“Yeah,” Jens said, still looking disoriented. “Nav? Ran?”

Ran just looked at them in increasing panic and started struggling to get his arm free of Crawford’s grasp. “Let go of me,” he said. “Let go, I won’t say where you went.”

“Just take a good breath, you’ll be fine,” Schuldig said. “We’re almost there.”

“Nagi,” Crawford said into his communicator, “status?”

_Station’s asking what the hells I think I’m doing. Engine at fifty per cent._

“Get the navigation system running too. Everything, Nagi.”

_. . .without the Nav, Captain?_

Crawford swallowed against the residual nausea. They had no time for this. “That’s a direct order, Naoe,” he snapped.

_Sir._

“Farfarello’s on the docks - says he’s holed up by another two of them,” Schuldig said. “We should go and help.”

“Let’s move,” Crawford said.

They jogged down the corridor leading to the docks, the station alarms sounding discordantly around them, announcements about help coming to the aid of the wounded ringing out. The chill of the docks seemed like the best thing Crawford had ever felt. _Danger_. He grabbed Schuldig, pulling him to a halt just as the blast of a weapon a lot more powerful than a handgun seared across the mouth of the corridor.

“Fuck,” Schuldig said, and jumped up to grab on to an exposed pipe on the ceiling, clinging there to get a shot off round the corner from an unexpected angle. He dropped down again. “Yeah,” he said in disgust, “I hear two of them. One now focused on us, one on Farfarello.” Another searing blast burnt the floor in front of them as they jumped back.

“How’d they find us?” Jens muttered. “What did Nagi trip?”

“Maybe they just recognised the ship’s signal,” Crawford said. They could _see_ the ship’s airlock from where they were, he thought in frustration. They’d be dead before they took more than a few steps towards it.

“You never drugged me, did you?” Ran said, out of nowhere, his voice furious. “Schuldig - you _answer_ me.”

“Not the time,” Schuldig said. “Bitch at me later.”

None of them needed a telepath’s abilities to see Ran’s thoughts written clearly on his face. Schuldig rolled his eyes and turned back to the mouth of the corridor. As Crawford suddenly felt a twinge of alarm, Ran ripped his arm free from his grasp and swung a blow at Schuldig’s head. He staggered as Schuldig easily evaded the attack, his momentum carrying him the few steps over the boundary between the corridor and the docks. Crawford tackled him, bringing them both down flat on the cold dock plates as the weapon blast shot out and scurried backwards, dragging Ran with him.

“You little fool -” he started, his voice dying away as Ran didn’t move. He turned him over and tried not to howl in frustration. The shot had been meant to sear Ran in half; he hadn’t been fast enough to prevent it doing any damage. The burn slashed across the young man’s shoulder and collar-bone.

“Is he dead?” Schuldig said.

“No,” Jens said, dropping to his knees beside him. “Unconscious. He must have taken the wave at the edge of the shot. He can’t navigate like this, can he?”

“Gods’ cunts and balls, Jens, what the fuck do you think?” Schuldig snapped. “No, he fucking can’t. Can you get him conscious?”

“Let me think,” Crawford said, _Put Ran in_ , he thought, _wounded, emotionally unstable_ \- he had no idea if his misgivings were premonitions or simple worries, but they added up to the same thing. “He’s not going to get us out of here.”

“So we’re screwed?” Jens said. “No, Capt-”

“Wait,” Schuldig said, looking back up the corridor. “I saw - four minutes, Crawford. Maybe five, If I’m not back by then -” He smiled, and passed over the gun. “You get the others out of here.” Before Crawford could say anything he was gone, running at his full speed.

“What’s he doing?” Jens said, still dealing with Ran.

“I don’t know,” Crawford said. He contacting Nagi. “Nagi, we need covering fire. Something attention-getting. Give it four minutes, Schuldig’s doing something. Farfarello is coming down the dock, we’re coming straight across from the nearest access corridor.”

_Attention-getting. Yes, Captain._

Ran groaned, and Jens muttered what sounded like a heartfelt prayer of thanks as he tried to find a position that was less painful for the young man. Crawford felt a warning of attack and got a careful shot off, hearing a curse that sounded much closer than he liked. _Approach from the rear_. He spun around. _Friendly_. He kept the gun ready until he was sure it was Schuldig, and blinked in surprise at the sight of the second figure, a young woman being towed in his first officer’s grasp.

“Who’s this?”

“Didn’t get a chance to get her name,” Schuldig said, gasping for breath. He lifted her chin, letting Crawford see her wide, frightened, violet eyes. “But meet our new nav.”

“The bang,” the young woman said, “and the light - her family -”

“No one will notice one missing girl in all that mess,” Schuldig said. He nodded towards the docks. “We’re in business. I see Nagi’s wearing something sensible.”

Crawford looked back and felt his spirits rise. The airlock had opened, revealing a figure dressed in kevlar and carrying a long tube. Nagi stepped out of the airlock and sank to one knee, raising the tube onto his shoulder, and sighting down the dock. His voice, running through the ship’s speakers rang out, massively magnified.

“Target acquired. Permission to fire?”

It was gratifying how much attention that got, Crawford thought. People hiding behind pallets and machinery all up and down the docks stopped trying to get the station security to hurry down to control the gunfight and began to run for corridors or airlocks. Two figures began to run towards Nagi.

“Fire,” he said.

The rocket didn’t hit their assailants, but Crawford saw it hadn’t been meant to, exploding against the wall near the emergency bulkhead. Breach klaxons immediately started to wail as the bulkhead began to close, smoothly and quickly. Nagi thrust out a hand and the two attackers were flung back, skidding along the dock on their sides.

“Now, Captain,” Nagi said. He pulled out a handgun and kept watch as Jens and Schuldig, still towing the stolen navigator with him, ran for the airlock. Crawford slung Ran over his shoulder and followed. A second later Farfarello pounded down the dock and into the airlock with them.

“I was with a _really_ cute girl,” he muttered resentfully.

“Everyone, battle stations!” Crawford yelled. He dropped Ran on the corridor floor and frowned as Jens stooped over him. “Jens, get to Weapons Two.”

“At least let me give him a chance,” Jens said, and pulled Ran into a storeroom, before running out to get him an antiseptic covering and a painkilling patch from one of the first aid kits. “Sir,” he mumbled, going then at a run to his station.

Schuldig was struggling with the navigator on the bridge.

“She’s like a fucking eel,” he said. “You’re going in, gods damn you!”

“No, no, no, no, it’s not her ship,” she wailed. “She can’t, she ate within the hour!”

Crawford grabbed her by the upper arms and held her as Schuldig gave her the drugs and she quietened down, tears silently rolling down her face. Schuldig jammed the cables home at her wrists, and just pulled her clothes up to get at the base of her spine. He practically flung her into the navigator’s station and strapped her down so tight Crawford wondered if she could breathe.

“Every day I miss Sani more,” Schuldig said viciously. He took a deep breath. “Calculations running,” he said. “Nagi’s selected a different destination than we told Station, thank the gods.”

“Engineering?” Crawford said.

_Everything’s fine. Engines at eighty-five percent, we can go. Power to weapons._

“Weapons One?”

 _All in order_ , Farfarello said.

“Weapons Two?”

 _Ditto_.

“We’re not coming back here are we?” Schuldig said.

“After a gunfight, displaying what we can do, stealing a navigator and firing rockets off on the dock?” Crawford said. “Probably not.”

“So let’s leave under our old identities. Maybe it’ll be hushed up.”

“Maybe,” Crawford said. He contacted the station authorities. “This is the _Rose_. We’re leaving dock. I suggest you clear the area.” He ignored the outraged noises as best he could until Schuldig’s suggestion seemed irresistible. “Let me clarify that, Station. This is the Hunter Ship _Rose Cross_. Clear the area. There will be no further communications.” He nodded to Schuldig. “Engage thrusters, break from dock.”

“Yes, Captain,” Schuldig said.

The pulled back abruptly, rupturing the seals connecting the ship to the station. The breach klaxons really would be working overtime now, Crawford thought, wondering how many people had been caught in the area. He and Schuldig kept silent, watching the station slowly recede, and Crawford began to breathe more easily. “Let’s turn around and get out of here,” he said. It was pleasant to watch their speed ticking upwards, all as it should be, and then all his comm lit up at once as everyone saw something at the same time.

_Ship breaking from station._

_Hunter configuration ship just broke from station!_

_Company, we’ve got company._

“I suppose catching us would be worth a commendation or two,” Schuldig said, looking at the readout. “And station life _can_ be boring.”

“Engineering, let’s have a bit more speed,” Crawford said. “Weapons One and Two, stand ready.” He looked over at Schuldig, “How far to jump point?”

“Hours,” Schuldig said. “Unless you want to live dangerously.”

“We’ve lived that way all our lives,” Crawford said. “Run new calculations.”

They kept going, feeling more and more on edge as their pursuit turned and came after them, gathering speed. It was fast, possibly faster than them, Crawford thought.

“Weapons coming on line,” Schuldig said. “Neither of us is close enough yet for a decent shot.”

 _Another ship leaving station_ , Nagi said.

“I see it,” Crawford said.

 _This is the Akrenna Station Security Ship_ Castle _. Hunter Ships_ Silver Light _and_ Rose Cross _stand down and surrender yourselves to our authority._

Crawford ignored it, watching the numbers instead. The _Silver Light_ was still gaining speed, but the _Castle_ couldn’t match them. It had heavier weapons, though. If it started getting a little closer -

 _Captain,_ Castle’s _weapons are coming on-line_ , Nagi said.

“Yeah,” Crawford said. “Let’s get a bit further away from them.” He watched the comm light indicating _Castle_ trying to make him answer, trying to intimidate him into surrender. Another display caught his attention and his heart sank.

“Nagi? Do you see -” he started.

 _Station defences are coming about,_ Nagi said crisply. _Long range guns are primed. Captain, get us out of here._

Crawford looked over at Schuldig who gave him a hollow, unhappy look in return.

“We’re too close. To _everything_. It’s not safe.”

“They’re going to fire the station’s guns at us, Schuldig.”

Schuldig looked down at his console. “Engaging navigation systems,” he said. “Start countdown to jump.”

The girl in the navigator’s station began to twitch and mutter.

“All hands,” Crawford said, dry-mouthed, “prepare for jump.”

 _Station has fired!_ Nagi screamed.

Castle _and_ Silver Light _both firing!_ Farfarello yelled.

“Do it!” Crawford yelled. “By all the gods, do it! All hands, brace for emergency jump!”

Schuldig slammed his hand down on the controls and the girl screamed in what seemed like absolute fury, fighting against the straps as best she could.

The ship’s material groaned under the stress, and tore itself from realspace.

 

* * *

 

Crawford’s vision cleared as he pushed himself up from the console, his head pounding from the dehydration headache. Schuldig groaned and lifted his head wearily, groping for a rehydration pack.

“Where are we?” Crawford said.

Schuldig looked at his console as if trying to make sense of madness. “Waypoint Four-Forty-One,” he said. “How did we - “ He frowned at the display, looking up at the navigator’s station in dismay. “The system’s still running! She’s taking us through again!”

“What? She has to rest -” Crawford said as Schuldig yelled,

“We’re _jumping_ , dammit! _Now!_ ”

“Brace!” Crawford yelled into the comm, “We’re going aga-”

 

* * *

  
“Report,” Crawford said in a dry whisper. “Everyone. Report.”

 _Engines at fifteen percent_ , Nagi said. _Engineer at much less._

 _Weapons One, alive - fuck, my array just died!_ Farfarello said.

 _The power’s needed elsewhere,_ Nagi snapped.

 _Weapons Two, migraine_ , Jens said.

“Navigation, off-line,” Schuldig said. “May the gods be fucking well thanked.” He downed a rehydration pack in one long swallow and started checking numbers. “We’re in Windgap. Did we want to be here? Not that I care, as long as we’re actually here, and not in the afterlife. How did we get here in two jumps from Akrenna?” He looked over at the navigator’s station, where the young woman hung silent and unconscious. “What the hells did I get us?”

“We’re leaking power from all systems,” Crawford said. “Nagi? What can you do?”

_I need proper facilities. And the spare parts I ordered. And gods, I need some painkillers and a full shift’s sleep._

Crawford rubbed his forehead. They’d have to go in-system. This wasn’t a repair job Nagi could cobble together by himself. He tried to see what would come about if they did go in, but felt as cut off from the future as any non-precognitive. They’d just have to risk it, he decided. No one could expect them to be here.

“Lay in a course for the main station,” he said. “If we can’t get a slot in the repair docks within a reasonable time, we’ll see what we can find on-planet.”

Schuldig nodded, obeying. Then he got up and staggered over to the navigator’s station, unbuckling the straps and removing the cables a lot more gently than he’d inserted them. The girl was covered with vomit and, from the smell, had fouled herself. Schuldig looked at the mess she’d made of the station and of herself and sighed.

“I’ll clean that up after I get her fed and settled,” he said. “I’m just going to tape over her ports and put her in the shower, I don’t have the energy to be more thorough.” He reluctantly picked her up and carried her, step by shaky step, from the bridge.

Crawford drank two rehydration packs in quick succession and marvelled at their continued existence. Then he grabbed another and left the bridge, hurrying to the storeroom where he had last seen Ran. The navigator was curled in a ball in a corner, his arms round his head.

“Ran,” Crawford said, hunkering down beside him. He put a hand on Ran’s leg, shaking him.

“What happened?” Ran said in a hoarse, wandering voice.

“You caught the edge of a blast weapon,” Crawford said. “We’re out of there, it’s all right. We’ve been through jump; you need to drink this.”

“I don’t remember the jump,” Ran said. “I’m sorry if it didn’t go well.”

“Apologies about jump? What did Jens give you?” Crawford said. “Don’t worry.”

“Even with what I said, I’m glad you didn’t leave me behind when I got shot,” Ran said, weakly.

“I wouldn’t have left you to be questioned,” Crawford said, patting his knee.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Crawford sighed. It was not the time to correct his misunderstanding. “Just rest. In a little while I’ll be able to spare people to move you to your own quarters and you’ll be more comfortable.”

“Thank you,” Ran said again, this time a little more awake. It seemed as if he felt something needed to be said. “Thank you for your protection, Captain.”

Crawford nodded, and left. Maybe he felt it was the wise thing to say, surrounded by people who turned out to be monstrous, or pirates. He put it from his mind and thought instead of the fact that they had survived a Black Unit attack, that their old skills were still sufficient to keep them alive. Even more incredible, he now had two navigators. For a small ship that was unusual, and beneficial. No more waiting for the nav to recuperate after a jump. They’d just become faster, never a bad thing when one was trying to be an honest merchant ship. And if times were lean, they could always sell one of them off.

He was still too exhausted to have an actual spring in his step as he went to see the rest of his crew, but Crawford was definitely in a better mood than he had been for some considerable time.


End file.
